Tell Me Something Sweet To Get Me By
by jcw124
Summary: Mary tells John something amazing. (Something old of mine I dug up to post!)


When Mary found out she was pregnant in 1978, she was apprehensive in telling her husband. Maybe it was the waves of nausea that racked her body periodically that day. Or John's lack of employment. Perhaps even the bills piling up at the edge of their dining room table. Whatever the reason, Mary could feel her blood pulsing through her veins, her ears hot underneath her feathered blonde hair. The bread dough she was rolling for dinner became warm from the heat of her hands as her mind wandered away from the situation at hand.

_Focus, Mary!_

She sighed and leaned her hip on the counter, pinching her nose with one hand. How could she even let it cross her mind that she and John could raise a baby in their current state? They were both at the cusp of twenty-four, scraping by on mortgage payments, and the not-so-happy owners of a barely functional washer and dryer.

_Talk about the opposite of the American Dream._

Mary hummed a tune to The Beatles' "She Loves You" as she stuck the rolls in the oven. John had gotten her the record of this single. It was among her favorites in her extensive Beatles collection, probably because she sang it to John so damn much. It pissed him off when he was trying to get some sleep (only sometimes). The other part of the time, he clearly belted it out with her, lazily draping his arm over her shoulder and running his fingers through her blonde curls.

Soon, the anxiety that had plagued Mary dissipated, and she danced along the kitchen floor in her socked feet. Her nausea had lifted, dinner was almost ready, and John would arrive home in a few minutes. She had a developing theory that The Beatles cured any and every malady in the book.

The customary jiggling of the doorknob made Mary smile and she ran into John's arms. "Hey!"

He kissed her hair. "Hello, Mary."

"'Hello, Mary?' This isn't Bible school, Winchester." She laughed and kissed his chin, the patch of rough dark stubble scratchy against her skin.

His face contorted into that radiant white smile Mary's world revolved around. Beginning indentations of crow's feet laced the spaces around his eyes. "Why, hey, Mary!"

"That's the spirit!" She pinched his cheek and poured him a glass of Jack Daniel's. John rubbed tiny circles into the back of her hips soothingly as he kissed her jawline. He glanced at the single glass on the table. A crease formed between his eyebrows.

"Aren't you going to have any? You always have some Jack with your dinner."

Her lips pressed tightly together in a line. This wasn't how Mary had planned the situation to unfold. She swallowed thickly. "I...can't."

"What? Why?"

She stroked the skin along her throat. "I'm pregnant...?"

John's hazel eyes lit up, although his facial expression was hard to read. She swept her gaze along his body language. "When did you find out?" He asked in a pinched tone.

"Just this morning." The nausea bit and tore at the pit of her stomach, and it didn't seem like it would let go anytime soon. She lowered her eyes to the linoleum of the kitchen floor. "I'm sorry, John."

He bit his lip. "Sorry? Oh, Mary...don't be sorry. It's a baby! We're having a baby!" The glassy look in his eyes slowly dissolved and he gently held her wrists close to his body. "A baby." He repeated softly.

Mary held eye contact with him for a moment. "I thought you'd be disgusted." She blurted out. A hurt look splashed across her husband's face.

"Disgusted? That you were pregnant? W-what?"

"We barely have money to provide for ourselves if you haven't noticed, John." She brushed her sweaty palms on the thighs of her jeans.

"We'll make it work. I'll make it work. I'll get two jobs. I'll get three jobs. Hell, I'll get eighty jobs if it meant you could stay at home with the baby." This offended Mary, but she didn't dare make it visible. What if she had wanted a career for herself? Would John still have restricted her to the position of a housewife? Would she have become a "wife of" rather than keep her own identity? Bullshit.

Mary composed herself and smiled up at him. "Eighty jobs minimum, you got that?" She joked, kissing him.

"Mhm." He murmured, lingering a bit on the kiss more than usual. "Mary, can you promise me to take care of yourself when you're pregnant?"

Her forehead wrinkled in questioning as she set the table. "What do you mean? Why wouldn't I?"

"You know what I mean. You're not lifting heavy boxes. Running a 5K. Trying out karate." He chuckled at his supposed wit, and Mary laughed along with him, snaking an arm around his waist. She studied his profile briefly, trying to invent a smart answer. But she just couldn't think of one.

"...fine." Aimlessly, she chewed on her pinkie nail, blue eyes flitting around the room to keep her hands busy.

John took it upon himself to serve he and his wife. Although he wasn't the most adept at expressing his emotions (maybe Vietnam does that to a guy. He wasn't a psych expert), he was ecstatic that Mary was pregnant. A small child, a combination of himself and his best companion? He found it incredulous. Taking a sip of his whiskey to dull his racing nerves and quickening heartbeat, he began to go over the finances that had been delivered to the house that afternoon. Electricity was much too high for his liking. The water bill was off the charts. John couldn't grasp how only two people had upped the bills so dramatically since the last month. Maybe Mary was right; a baby would complicate things.

But complicating things doesn't make them unbearable, or impossible for that matter. Even if money was an issue, the only thing most valuable to him was his family's health and happiness. He wanted his wife and their growing child to have a roof over their heads, beds to sleep in, and food to eat. And he'd go to the ends of the Earth to give that to them.


End file.
